


some day, the flowers will wither

by kenmaken



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Durarara!!AU-ish, Friendly banter, Gen, Iwaoi is basically Shizaya lmao, M/M, bodyguard!Iwaizumi, but not really, how_do_i_tag_tho.png, i have an obsesion with parenthesis help, just two bros throwing salt at each other, tattoo artist!Mattsun, this is really silly and short but hey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 08:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13314444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenmaken/pseuds/kenmaken
Summary: Issei would really like to know when people started to see him as the tattooed yakuza guy that has no chill and is so shady that he’s the best friend of two of the most dangerous guys in Ikebukuro.Seriously, he isn’t even a yakuza.(or: Issei loves making fun of Iwaizumi and Iwaizumi hates him because Tahakiro lets him smoke)





	some day, the flowers will wither

**Author's Note:**

> okay so i made a thing  
> i had like eight centuries without writing shit (spare me undertale style pls)  
> durarara!au-ish bc i needed it  
> #not english speaker sorry  
> pd: i really like parenthesizes and the title comes from not today by BTS ayy

Issei has known the pair of weirdos since high school―he’s endured their bickering the same way he tolerates the sting of the needle against his skin.

It’s been this way for so many years that he can’t even remember the novelty of watching them discuss about what they’re going to eat for dinner or who has to do the dishes that night (Oikawa always says something between the lines “I have a job, I’m busy!” and “You’re better than me, Iwa-chan!” before scurrying off).

He kinda wants to experience that feeling again. To be scared of the things he doesn’t understand. To be afraid of the guy that throws lampposts away like they’re toothpicks in a fit of rage or the guy that plays with other people’s lives like they’re the funniest toys in the world.

At some point, he stopped fearing them and instead ended up being their tattooed best friend―the one that doesn’t even blink when a vending machine is thrown at his direction and crashes loudly in front of his tattoo parlor, also rumored to be a high ranked yakuza that knows everyone at the local syndicate.

(And, _hey_ , they aren’t exactly _wrong_ , but who’s Issei to correct them? As if that would stop the infinite stream of gossip that washes over him each time he steps outside of the shop.)

He lights up a cigarette and stares at the smoke floating in the air, absently. Iwaizumi is sitting beside him, arms crossed and sunglasses perched on top of his spiky hair, looking at the street with the ghost of a smile.

“Want a cigarette, Hajimecchi?” Issei asks, blowing a gust of smoke at Iwaizumi’s face, his dark eyes crinkling at the edges mischievously. He’s grinning―a shit eating grin that all of his friends hate to death.

“You know Oikawa hates it,” Iwaizumi sighs, brow furrowed even though the tone of his voice is full with fondness. Issei idly wonders how is it possible to love someone the way Iwaizumi and Oikawa love each other.

(It’s truly fascinating, although a bit disturbing when you linger around long enough to see them kissing.)

“Oh right, I forgot his ‘no-sex-while-you-reek-of-cigarettes!’ rule, whoops,” Issei snorts, waving a hand dismissively, and Iwaizumi lets out a barking laugh.

(The laugh is loud, boisterous, and brings him back to high school, where Iwaizumi got scolded for accidentally breaking school property and they snickered whenever Oikawa scared the living shit out of their senpais.)

“You’re an asshole, you know,” Iwaizumi says, narrowing his eyes and pointing his finger at Issei, accusing. “You just like to rub it on my face that Hanamaki doesn’t give a shit about your smoking!”

“…Well, I’m guilty, what can I say?” His grin widens and Iwaizumi gives a long suffering sigh, sounding way too tired for someone who drinks at least three cups of coffee throughout the day.

Issei wouldn’t have it any other way.

He takes a drag of his cigarette and, as the smoke slowly fills his lungs, Issei thinks that maybe he’ll follow Iwaizumi soon and stop smoking. After all, he isn’t getting younger.

“Fuck you, Matsukawa,” Iwaizumi snarls, standing up and stuffing his hands inside the pockets of his pants. From his place, Issei can see the multiple nicotine patches on Iwaizumi’s tan skin, barely covered by his white dress shirt.

(Nicotine patches are a small mercy for those that aren’t addicted to the truly wrong stuff, Issei supposes, exhaling. He’s already seen his fair share of people jumping out of buildings, just because they don’t have enough money to buy drugs.)

“Go ‘way, Iwaizumi. Your darlin’ is probably waiting for you at home,” Issei says, looking at his friend with half-lidded eyes.

“…You’re right, he’s probably dying of hunger,” Iwaizumi runs a hand through his spiky hair, grimacing slightly. “By the way, sorry if the reporters are causing you troubles lately. They’ve been pretty intense.”

“Don’t worry, man,” Issei waves him off, stretching his back, (it cracks loudly and he hisses). “It’s good publicity, I mean, who wouldn’t want a tattoo from a badass wakagashira, who’s also the best friend of Ikebukuro’s strongest man and his asshole boyfriend?”

“Are _you_ a badass wakagashira?” Iwazumi asks, raising one of his eyebrows, and Issei huffs mockingly, taking another drag of the cigarette.

“Of course! Do you see any missing finger?” he retorts, holding the cigarette with his teeth and wriggling his fingers in front of Iwaizumi’s face. “You should leave, though. I don’t like receiving death threats from Oikawa, they’re fucking scary.”

Hajime laughs again. The sunglasses are still on top of his head.

“I’ll tell Tooru you say hi.”

“Bye, Hajimecchi!”          

And he’s alone again, smoking in a lonely bench at the side of the street―until his phone goes off with Takahiro’s custom ringtone.

“Oi, when are you coming back?” Takahiro grumbles, his lips probably pursed together.

“I’m on my way, darling.”

“Bring food, _please_. I don’t want to see any of my subordinates right now.”

“Okay, okay.”

Issei mashes the butt of the cigarette against the concrete and stands up as he scratches the back of his neck lazily, wondering what he should buy for dinner this time.

(The things he does for his beloved yakuza boss, honestly.)

**Author's Note:**

> (in case u were wondering, Makki is the current yakuza boss and Mattsun his partner. they met a few years ago when Mattsun began his tattooing lessons and Makki was still in training  
> they bonded over memes and started dating after a while. he always rejects positions at the syndicate bc losing his fingers means losing his job and he worked really hard for that??  
> he’s always being visited by yakuzas that want new tattoos, so everyone thinks he’s also one lmao)  
> I think I’ll turn it into a series if university doesn’t swallow me first,,,,,  
> #please listen to guillotine by jon bellion ITS AMAZING


End file.
